Norman is bearing the brunt of Brexit Britain with his butchers shop regularly pelted with fresh dog turds by the local immigrant haters. When his mum dies, he and his egotistical model twin Annabelle, ironically the advertising face of a leading laxative, realise that she was not their biological parent after all.

The discovery of a hidden postcard reveals the last known location of their blood mother, the Australian outback town of Two Heads Creek, where the locals shotgun Castlemaine for breakfast and the koalas piss chlamydia. Angry at the deception, and insanely curious to question her, they head off to uncover the truth.

This irreverent splatter comedy from Arrowhead director Jesse O’Brien, showcases a sense of humour as broad as the arc of its lurid arterial spray. With a similar narrative trajectory as vintage Peter Jackson flicks, it takes care of loading the character bases with whimsical charm before swinging the bloodshed bat for a home run of final third carnage.

Two Heads Creek is extremely bold at times in its ruthless satirisation of stereotypes. However, it survives sailing so close to the wind for the good grace that it is blown by an agenda of anti-bigotry and inclusion. The towns thirst for murder is motivated by a truly distasteful dissection of immigration policy that will enrage those who misjudge the flight of its satirical arrows dipped in the poison of caricature.

The violence is also extreme at times with cage fulls of victims being chewed to a pulp by a giant mincing machine that tips the balance from discrimination based homicide into indiscriminate genocide. Miraculously, Two Heads Creek maintains the goodwill through pantomime pay-offs, such as cricket-based child slaughter and a cocktail stick Australian flag planted in the urethra of a severed penis.

In terms of socio-critical mass, this bonkers midnight flick may sound far too crass to scratch little more than the exposed epidermis of parody. However, it penetrates the greasy flesh of global injustice as readily as its cavalcade of deranged characters are willing to gobble it up. The shameful mistreatment of First Australians and the controversial implications of Australia Day itself are just two of the contentions ruthlessly lampooned into a submissive corner.

The cast is mostly comprised of well-weathered Australian actors and bright new talent, all of them having a riotous time cavorting in this sandpit of lunacy. Suddenly, from nowhere, Helen Dallimore, as the irrepressible Apple, belts out a show-stopping rendition of the Skyhooks’ Horror Movie. A left-field scene of energetic vibrancy that encapsulates the whole ‘fuck it…. lets film it’ ethos of the film. It is also one of the most grin-inducing set pieces of the year so far.

The script is almost as witty as it is crude with a plethora of references to spot as diverse as Silence of the Lambs, Terminator and Crocodile Dundee. A running joke about relationship counselling is particularly hilarious, as is a beautifully delivered scene where an Asian man translates Aussie slang.

In terms of plot Two Heads Creek manages to project domestic pig sex onto the narrative blueprint of Star Wars, which is of course genius. To be honest, the film fixates so heavily on slapstick foulness that any logical developments are secondary to the necrophiliac dinner dates and verbal shit-slinging.

With its eyes fixed firmly on cult movie notoriety, this routinely gross and grubby outback oddity is as quotable and in your face as they come. Winner of the Best Feature Film category at the prestigious Fantaspoa Festival this is one filthy flick just crying out for boozy get-togethers and drive-in screenings.



Splatter, Horror, Comedy | Australia 2019 | 93 mins | Cert 18 strong gory violence | Signature Entertainment | UK VOD 7th Sep 2020 | Dir. Jesse O’Brien | With: Kerry Armstrong, Kathryn Wilder, Gary Sweet